Slaughter
by deadheadwookie27
Summary: What ever Badbloods want, they get. At the top of the list is Pyode Amedha blood
1. Chapter 1

**Slaughter**

By: Stephen Hedges

They Came for Us

They Hunted Us

They Used Us

They Fought Us

They SLAUGHTERED US

.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

The season grew hot as the streets of Barcelona filled with crowds of people. The mobs of Men, Women, and children filled the streets early in the morning. It was only about seven o'clock, but was at least a hundred and ten degrees. A slight salty breeze filled the air, but it was humid and moist. Kids ran down the streets towards their schools, adults called for cabs and waiting in line for their morning coffee.

The most stressful job though, was working the docks. It was always hot working them, regardless of what the temperature was. Dockers needed to be at work by six in the morning for the early shipments, and today twenty three of the two hundred fifty work forces had dropped from heat exhaustion. Everyone had been ordered to take breaks every half an hour. Three men had been unaccounted for since six thirty, apparently they fell in the river but there weren't any clues as to what happened, just that they were missing.

During the second break of the morning, a lone man stood away from the "Water cooler" group. He never did like being in groups, people always got on his nerves. He had been working the docks for about eleven years and was a veteran of the trade. He got good pay, worked decent hours, and had plenty of health benefits. The only thing playing against him was that he hated the job. He hated all the commotion, the heat, and the rats. The rats were the worst, some growing up to three feet long; whether it was the heat or actuality he never wanted to have a run in with one of them.

His favorite thing to do during his breaks was to just look out into the skyline above the Atlantic. The ambient horizon seemed to calm him, and especially the pinkish orange tint to the clouds made him feel… Free. He was resting his forearms on top of his right knee. His leg propped on top of a boat tie. He sighed heavily and looked down, noticing a crimson tint to the water. He started to wonder about the guys that had gone missing this morning. He wondered why they had stopped looking when the police came, and not to mention why the police hadn't even looked. He gave up on the idea but noticed that the crimson tint was growing redder. He got down on his stomach and peered underneath the dock, instantly regretting it.

Three bodies hung from their skinless feet underneath pier nine. They were only composed of muscle, organ, and bone (besides their skulls and spinal column.) Whether or not they suffered painfully was unknown, all that could be concluded was that they were completely mutilated. No skin what-so-ever, yet it looked as if it was done carefully.

Enrique took off running after discovering the three bodies. He ran into the labyrinth of crates brought in by freighters. He ran over to an open crate and wretched all over. He was vomiting so violently that it brought him down to one knee. He was like that for ten minutes at the least, in the distance from whence he came, he could hear sirens. The others must had discovered the bodies. He got up and wiped the excess vomit from the corner of his lip. He tried to calm himself, still trembling terribly; he caught a sudden movement out f the corner of his left eye. He swiveled quickly only to see a shimmer of light.

Enrique was confused and still felt ill. He was scared and lost. So making a move he stumbled back into a crate and found an empty bottle, probably from a homeless man. As he cowered in the dark container, something began to drip on him. The heat inside the container was even more sickening than outside. He then realized the fluid was running into his mouth… blood. He started to wretch again, this time nothing would come. He had spilled the contents of his stomach earlier, making this time more painful than before. He frantically calmed himself as he heard another noise. He grasped the empty bottle tightly, breaking off the thick part in order to defend himself if necessary.

A flicker at the edge of the container, like a break in the light, reflected into the darkness where Enrique cowered. He only thing that had ever come close to what he was viewing now, had been a prism once in his fourth grade science class. The way both of them reflected the light into different colours, and how it shone and rippled your view when you looked through it.

Three beams of red light appeared from the shape. They weren't just random beams of light, no, they were targeting lights. They were precise, accurate, and predictable, predictable meaning instant death wasn't a possibility but a fact. There was a series of beeps followed by a clicking noise. Then a giant appeared in front of him. It had to be at least three meters tall, with dark grey (almost green) skin. It had tiny animal skulls strapped above its giant calf muscle, and three human skulls in a net like bag, attached at its right hip. The beast itself looked like a man, but barely that. It had a giant, well toned, muscular body; hands with claws able to rival a panthers; and thick cylinder dreadlocks for hair. It wore armour that was far bulkier and older than newer up-to-date police and army technology, but somehow it seemed even more efficient. On its large forearms were two metal gauntlets, the left one had a panel covering, while on the other hand (literally) the right contained two chrome blades. Both were razor sharp capable of slicing the lining of your stomach before you could shit yourself. Next to its head was a gun of some sort. It was a tube that swiveled, or it could be a camera.

Enrique really didn't examine the creature to much closer. He had no idea what it could be, nor was he too excited to find out. The only thing he could really look at that scared him the most out of everything was its mask. Two eyes were carved in the blue metal, on top laid what look to be ritual markings douse in red paint. There were little spikes at the top of the helmet, running vertically up towards its dreadlocks. The creature looked down at Enrique and its eyes flashed yellow.

Enrique began to weep violently. He heard the creature emit something like a grunt of disgust, or anger, but he went with disgust. It grabbed him by his throat easily picking the full grown man two feet off of the ground so he was eye level with it. Then it replayed a recorded message that Enrique realized a man taunted him with the other day.

"Curiosity killed the cat." At that moment Enrique not only made his ast realization of his life, but also shit himself. The creature with the flick of its wrist (literally a flick) threw him back into the corner and walked four meters back to the door, turning to face him. He was now embarrassed in the presence of a monster but also knew as a the he was going to die, as a blue flash filled the darkness of the docking container; and Enrique's face was pushed out the back of his skull with all his memories, sins, and ideas went with it.

The creature then walked over to the body, and with a "shink" extended its blades on its wrist. It then used those chrome instruments of death to remove what was left of Enrique Emmanuel's head. With its fingers it scooped out the rest of the brains, disappointed at the gapping hole. It placed the skull into the net containing the others, grabbed the lifeless and headless corpse, and slung it over its shoulders as it sprinted out of the container. It ran for a good ten minutes until it reached a crane. Quickly it removed the skin, letting the useless flesh drop to the ground. It then slipped a thick metal cable around the late mans ankles. Finally letting the corpse of muscle and organ hit the ground, it attached the cable to its belt and scaled the side of the crane till it reached the top. It then fastened the cable to the very edge of the crane for all to see its trophy. The useless ooman didn't even use its weapon. Yet it was still clutched in the fingers, the right hand skin must have not been removed. The murderous beast strode over majestically across the bars, and plucked the shard of glass from the hand of the remains of Enrique.

It tossed the bottle down twenty stories to the street below. Even not intentionally it saw the shard strike another of the small worthless oomans down. It clicked happily, and then proceeded to roar furiously into the air of Barcelona. People from the street looked up, people from offices leaned out of their windows, and people in cars looked up to see what it was making those noises. Other creatures around the city clicked excitedly and gave their own roars; soon the air was all vicious cries of blood lust. The Hunt had begun.


End file.
